


One of These Nights

by free_will



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bobby Finds Out, Bobby Ships It, Caught, Dean/Sam - Freeform, Fluff, M/M, Weecest, Wincest - Freeform, bobby ships wincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 07:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8970208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/free_will/pseuds/free_will
Summary: Sam and Dean are at Bobby's house and decide to fool around. But then someone walks in on them, and suddenly every changes-- or does it? They knew it was only a matter of time before they were caught.I've always thought that if Wincest were canon, no one except Bobby would know. They would never talk about it, but Sam and Dean would know that he knew. And he'd be okay with it. So this is how it would all go down. (Warning: extreme chick flick moment, cheesy 70's music, and Sam rambling on about cute nerd stuff.) Actual Warning: mention of self-harm





	

The Eagles song plays quietly, filling the room with soft vibrations that make Dean tingle with contentedness as he lays on the bed and watches, amused, as Sam tries to complete his calculus homework. His eyebrows are furrowed, his mouth pursed into a straight line, and every once in a while he’ll shake his head or mutter something to himself. Dean smiles, feeling nothing but adoration and fascination at the utterly complicated and beautiful human being sitting across from him. At one point, he stands up and walks to the desk Sam is hunched over. He runs his hands across Sam’s shoulders, letting his thumbs dig in and massage the tight muscles there.

“Sammy, as hot as you are when you’re doing math, I gotta interrupt you.”  
He reaches down and starts kissing at Sam’s neck, trying to annoy him into going further.

“Dean, if you’re trying to initiate something, now is not the time. I’m almost done with this worksheet. I gotta have it done by Monday.”

“But it’s Saturday, fucktard. You’ve got all of tomorrow to work on this.”

“Well, I’m on a roll here. Just wait ‘til I’m done.”

Deans steps back from Sam and sighs animatedly.

“Fine. Choose calculus over me. I get it. But I bet I’m a lot harder than that worksheet.”

At this, Sam snorts. Dean laughs, too.

“Okay, Dean, that pun was almost good enough to convince me. Almost.”

“Come on. Please?” Dean asks in a whiny voice. Sam attempts to ignore him, pursing his lips with determination and staring at his worksheet, although his train of thought has already been derailed. He pretends like it wasn’t.

“Come on, Sammy. Math can wait, but I can’t. I want you now. Please please please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

Sam finally drops his pencil, sighing.

“Fine.”

And without another word, Sam stands up and smashes his face against Dean’s. Dean smiles victoriously before kissing Sam, their mouths working together. Sam backs Dean up onto the bed, collapsing on top of him.

“You’re really annoying, you know that?” Sam says between kisses. Dean laughs.

“Whatever it takes to get you on top of me.”

Sam smiles, but then whacks Dean on the head. “It’s stuff like that that’s gonna give me an F in this class.”

“Oh, shut up, geek.” As he says this, Dean flips Sam around so he’s on top of his little brother. They kiss, their mouths hot and wet and desperate. His hips are rocking, making Sam whimper every now and then.

“God, Dean,” he whispers as Dean starts to suck on his neck, his hands working their way up Sam’s shirt. Their mouths find their way back to each other, and Dean is grabbing Sam’s waist hard enough to bruise, and he’s grinding mercilessly against Sam’s crotch, making both of them moan. Sam’s hands are everywhere, from the back of his brother’s neck all the way down to his ass, pushing their bodies ever closer together.

And then something happens that was previously unimaginable for the Winchester boys. The door opens.

It’s Bobby. He’s standing in the doorway, his face such a chaotic mixture of shock and disgust and disappointment and even something like pity that neither of the brothers can make it out. All they can do is scramble off each other as fast as possible, both wiping their mouths, and try to find some words in their brain that will make this situation better. But there’s nothing. All they can do is stammer, starting sentences that aren’t legitimate enough to be finished.

Even Bobby is speechless. At first, he tries to see if the person underneath Dean is a girl, but the shaggy hair and the boyish frame are most definitely Sam’s. Then, he tries to think maybe they were wrestling. They do it all the time. But Dean’s mouth was most definitely on Sam’s, and the red in their cheeks definitely didn’t come from the excitement of a fight. He doesn’t know whether to yell or pretend he didn’t see or feel sorry for them or all of the above. He knows the way John is raising his kids isn’t perfect, maybe even damaging, but he never predicted anything like this. He never expected this level of insanity, of disgusting codependency created by too much alone time or scarring memories or whatever else it could be. He can hardly even wrap his brain around it. He wonders if it’s something more innocent, like a childish level of curiosity, but Dean is eighteen and Sam is fourteen. Dean’s old enough to have that curiosity satisfied, and even Sam is old enough to know how incredibly wrong this all is.  
“Bobby, we can explain,” Dean finally gets out, his voice shaky and hoarse and even on the verge of tears. But once he says those four words, he knows they’re pointless. Because the explanation that keeps bubbling up inside him is the one he recites to himself every day. That it’s all okay, because they’re different. Because they love each other, more than any other two people have loved each other, and because it’s just different. But saying, “It’s just different,” isn’t much of an explanation. So he just stops trying to defend himself.

“Boys… what are you doing?” Bobby finally says, and it’s not a question. It comes out more like disappointed sigh mixed with a hint of fear.

“I don’t know,” Dean says. “I just… I don’t-- it’s not…”

As Dean searches for any intelligible words to say, Sam is frozen, the wave of panic holding him completely still. He can’t think of anything to say, either. All he can do is think. Wrong. We’re disgusting. We’re so wrong. I must be insane. I must be the devil or something. How could I do something so wrong? Sometimes Sam wonders if he’s evil, if he has some sort of darkness flowing through his veins that makes him do terrible things like this. He almost feels the compulsion to slit his wrists like some emo kid and just let all the evil bleed out of him until he’s clean. He’s knows it’s stupid, but he just can’t seem to think of anything else to do. He can’t even imagine facing these new circumstances head-on. The thought of even making eye contact with Bobby makes him want to die.

The air is thick with a long, awkward silence. It seems to last forever. And then, Bobby simply walks away, leaving something behind where he was standing, something new in the air. Something that slightly changes dynamic between the two brothers.

“Well, so much for keeping it a secret,” Dean tries to say lightheartedly, but it ends up sounding incredibly solemn.

“I can’t believe this.” Sam puts his face in his hands, tears building up behind his eyes. “I can’t believe I did this.”

“Hey, wait. You didn’t do anything. None of this is your fault. You had no way of knowing Bobby would open that door when he did.”

“It’s not about Bobby. It’s just… this. It’s not okay.”

Dean’s heart drops, and he swallows down the lump in his throat. “Yeah. I know.”

/Fucking pedophile. Disgusting, piece of shit pedophile. Fucking your own brother in Bobby’s house? What the fuck were you thinking?/

For the first time in a long time, Dean lets the voice in his head blast full-volume, forcing him to feel every inch of guilt.

/He was only twelve years old. Twelve years old when he tasted your dick for the first time. You’re just as bad as those fucked-up priests who touch little boys. You’re no different from any other pervert. You’re worse. None of them fucked their own brother. Couldn’t you just keep your fucking hands to yourself? Sam obviously doesn’t want this. He just looks up to you. He wants you to be proud of him. But he thinks you’re only proud of his when him mouth is wrapped around your dick. Of course he fucked you. You’re teaching him that it’s totally normal. God, Dean. You’re such a fucking idiot. A repulsive human being. You don’t even deserve to live anymore. You deserve to go to Hell-- suffer like you made Sam suffer. You were supposed to protect him, Dean. Remember that? Yeah. Good job. Scarring him for life. Using him. Hurting him. You’re the fucking brother of the year, aren’t you? You should just kill yourself now, start chipping away at your eternal sentence to Hell./

“Dean? Please stop crying. Please, Dean.”

Sam’s voice wakes Dean up from his self-loathing. He feel wetness on his cheeks. Was he crying? He looks at Sam through blurry eyes. His face is soft and concerned, also slightly tear-streaked. Dean tries not to think about how pretty he is. The voice in his head isn’t completely gone, and if it realizes that Dean is still attracted to Sam, there will be hell to pay.

“Sorry,” Dean finally says with a voice much more broken than he expected.

“Dean, it’s gonna be okay. I know this is bad, but we can deal with it. Bobby isn’t like Dad. Bobby might understand. Hell, if we’re lucky, he might pretend it never happened.”

Dean nods, trying to feel the comfort. But he can’t.

“I just…” Dean tries to say. “I just feel like a… like a pedophile or something.”

Sam’s eyebrows furrow, his sweet blue/green/golden eyes boring into Dean’s. “No, Dean. Don’t feel that way. Don’t let yourself feel that.”

“I can’t stop it. It’s just like this… this voice in my head that tells me this is so wrong. And I know the voice is right. But I kept doing it anyways. I kept taking advantage of you even though--”

“Taking advantage of me? Dean, we’ve been through this! You’re not taking advantage of me. You’re not a pedophile. I want this just as much as you do. Probably more. You can’t keep telling yourself that.”

“How can I not? Sam, we started this when you were twelve. You should be holding hands with your girlfriend when you’re twelve. Not getting face-fucked by your big brother!”

Sam face changes. At first, it’s sad, and then he becomes determined. Almost angry.

“Okay. I get it. You think I’m still a kid. You don’t think I’m mature enough to know that this is wrong. Well, I am. I get how wrong this is, Dean, I just don’t care. I don’t care, because this is what I want. You didn’t make me this way. This is my fault. I could have stopped this, but I didn’t. And now we’re here. And I like it. I never want it to stop. I don’t care if the whole world knows what we do. I just want you to be here. I want things to stay how they are. Because it makes me, really, really happy. Nothing makes me feel like you do. What we have… it’s different. It’s so different. If I’m being honest, I don’t think anyone has ever been more in love with anyone than I am with you. You’re like a fucking god to me. I don’t know how to describe it. It’s like… you know how I was telling you about alternate universes?”

Sam’s eyes are wide, glowing with adoration and energy and determination, and Dean is so fucking in love that all he can do is smile and nod.

“Okay, so remember how I was saying that they’re infinite? Well, when I try to see us in them… our bodies, or our energies, or whatever-- there isn’t one single universe where we’re not together. No matter what universe we’re in, I always belong with you. It doesn’t matter what the circumstances are. I just can’t imagine any time or place or situation where I’m not with you. Where we’re not… whatever we are. Not just brothers but even more than that. And we will always be that. It doesn’t matter who or where or when we are-- we just fit. And yeah, it’s fucking disgusting. In this world especially, where brothers aren’t supposed to do things like we do. But I’m glad we’re brothers. It wouldn’t be the same if we weren’t. And I don’t care if that makes me evil. I don’t care if I have to go to Hell for this. It’s worth the time I get to spend with you. You just… you just really have no idea how much I love you, Dean.”

Dean is crying like a fucking girl, smiling while tears pour down his cheeks, because Sam just said it all. Everything Dean has ever felt for his little brother. As he wipes his tears away, he says, “I do. I know how much you love me. You’ll probably never believe me, but I know, because I feel it, too.”

“Really?”

“Of course I do. It’s all I’ve ever done, Sammy, is love you.”

And that’s the last of the chick-flick moment-- it’s closest they’ll ever come to saying “I love you”. Dean is suddenly way too aware of his tears, and makes a desperate attempt to wipe them away while buffing himself up back to manhood again. Sam does it, too, clearing his throat and wiping the wetness from his eyes. Dean is relieved when he lightens the moment by saying, “Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

***

When Bobby makes dinner, he usually finds Sam and Dean and tells them in person that it’s ready. But this time, he just calls them from downstairs. Sam and Dean both know it’s to prevent from walking in on something again. (As if either of the brothers would ever dare do anything remotely incesty in Bobby’s house again.)

“You ready for the most awkward dinner you’ll ever experience?”

“Yeah. Are you?”

“I guess so.”

The boys reluctantly migrate downstairs, tiptoeing into the kitchen and sitting down at the table, as far apart as they can possibly be. Bobby dishes the food onto their plates and then sits down. Dean’s heart warms at the sight of the steak and potatoes in front of him.

“This looks good, Bobby.”

“Yeah, well, I thought it was about time for a steak.”

“You thought right,” Dean says before clearing his throat. The conversation has an underlying tone of awkwardness, but it’s not as bad as he expected.

Until Bobby starts talking.

“Okay, listen boys. I want to ignore this just as much as you do. But I gotta say something. And then we can never talk about this again. You just gotta listen to me. Okay?”

Sam and Dean both nod, color going into their cheeks at the prospect of bringing up the subject. But they’re okay with it as long they never have to talk about it again.

“Alright. First off, I gotta say I’m not surprised. The way your daddy is raising you two is far from perfect. About as far as it gets. Lord knows he loves you, but he’s… distracted. He ain’t paying attention to what you’re doing whenever he’s gone. Hell, you could be total potheads and he probably wouldn’t know it. And by the way, Dean, don’t think I don’t know about your stash.”  
Dean gulps. Bobby just, smiles, though, and says, “But that’s whole other subject. My point is, it makes sense that you two would be getting up to some bad stuff with all that alone time. And it makes sense that the bad stuff you’re doing would be… whatever I saw in there. You boys are about the closest I’ve ever seen two brothers. You rely on each other. I understand that. You need each other. You ain’t got a chance to make any real friends, moving around like this. So you turn to each other. And, as you’re growing up, you’re needing more. More than friends. So, again, you turn to each other. Now, I don’t get how on God’s green earth you can do that with each other without hurling, but it obviously don’t bother you. And, even though it makes me a little sick to my stomach, I want you two to know that I’m okay with it. I don’t want you going crazy in my house no more, but I’m okay with whatever it is that happened up there. Because I know you love each other. And as long as you’re being safe and as long as you keep it on the down low, you have my… blessing or whatever. Not that you need it.”  
Sam and Dean are both shocked. Bobby just gave them his blessing? Sam’s eyes are wide, but he’s relieved. Dean is smiling.

“Wow. Thanks, Bobby. I had a feeling you would understand.”

“Well, I don’t really understand. I mean, it’s gross. But I understand how it happened.”

Dean sighs. “We just… I don’t know how it got like this. But you’re right. We love each other. What we do… it makes us happier than anything else. And as far as the incest goes… it just doesn’t feel wrong to us. We know it’s wrong, but we don’t feel it. I don’t know why things are the way they are, but we can’t change it.”

“I know. And you don’t gotta change it. You just gotta be careful. ‘Cause not everyone is gonna be as accepting as me. Understand?”

The brothers nod. “Yes, sir.”

“And don’t let me catch you doing anything in my house again, either.”

“Are you kidding?” Sam laughs. “As long as I’m on your property, I don't even wanna look at Dean."

Dean and Bobby laugh.

“Alright. Never talking about it again. Right?” Bobby asks.

Sam and Dean say at the same time, “Never.”


End file.
